


Ghosts

by devereauxpoi



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-02-28 18:00:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2741834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devereauxpoi/pseuds/devereauxpoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Reese, Finch & Shaw work to find out why the machine has given them Joss Carter's number. Is she really alive after all? Takes place around the time of S3E14.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this story in the beginning of the year but after many stops and starts and frustration I lost interest. Chellero encouraged me to keep at it-a big thank you and hug to her for getting me excited about it again. To this day it still bothers me how Joss figuring out the machine exists was just thrown out there nonchalantly. While trying to come up with scenarios of her surviving The Crossing this idea came to me. It takes place around the time of the episode Provenance which is when I stopped watching POI.

February 14, 2014

_Valentine’s Day. February fourteenth. The day, known around the world for romance, when lovers profess their innermost passions and feelings to the ones they adore. It had been so long since that day on the calendar had any true meaning to John. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had someone to actually celebrate it with. Someone special to indulge in all the sickeningly sweet cherubs, stuffed bears and chocolate hearts that the Hallmark holiday was known for._

_He struggled to recall the last time he’d even had a valentine. He had met Jessica in March of 2001 and had returned to the service that fall so that meant it had to be Jennifer Griffin. The love of his life, or so he thought, his junior year of college. He remembered picking her up at her dorm that evening, armed with a bouquet of red roses from the local quickie-mart and an inexpensive silver bracelet he had saved up for. They had then headed over to one of the campus fraternity parties for a while and had rushed back drunk to her dorm room to fumble in the dark before her roommate returned. It wasn’t exactly what you’d call a romantic evening and he laughed thinking of how young and clueless they had been._

_This year, however, was different. This year John had Joss to celebrate the day with and he was going all out for the woman he adored. He was a hopeless romantic and he wanted the day to be a magical and memorable one for her. She deserved nothing less. They had not that long ago agreed to explore “whatever this is” and he wanted to remind her once again just what she meant to him. Joss had turned his life around and helped to mend his battered and bruised heart. He wanted to make up for all the Valentine’s Days he’d missed out on. The ones he knew she had missed out on too. He’d been obsessing over the day for weeks and had it all organized down to the smallest details. He jumped out of bed, excited like a child on Christmas morning, and headed to the bathroom to get showered and dressed._

_Joss was working an eight to four shift so stage one was to surprise her with her favorite breakfast. He knew it was a surefire way to start her day off with a smile. He had arranged for a basket to be delivered to her desk at the 8th precinct, from her favorite bakery Martine’s, filled with all the pastries and gourmet coffee she loved. He even managed to have them include pancakes from Lyric’s. John’s phone buzzed at 8:20._

_“Good morning detective.”_

_“It is a good morning, John. Thank you for all the treats. I’m not going to be able to move after all of this.”_

_“Well, I hope you can because you have a lot more surprises coming your way today.”_

_“I can’t wait to see what else you have in store. Talk to you later.” she giggled into the phone._

_The rest of the morning and afternoon involved a few more deliveries to the precinct. Next up, was a large stuffed dog, Bear’s doppelganger, holding a big red box of Godiva chocolates. After that, Joss was treated to her favorite Sesame Chicken and dumplings from Kam Sen Kitchen. Lastly, a crystal vase with three dozen red roses was sent. Attached to them was a handwritten card saying “You are my heart. You are my everything. I’ll love you always ~John.”_

_At four o’clock, John crossed the street in front of Joss’s building, his hands full of brown grocery bags and a bottle of Cabernet tucked under one arm. He could easily have made reservations at any top restaurant in the city but cooking her an intimate meal in her kitchen seemed so much more romantic. He pictured the candles, wine and tantalizing scents as he stole kisses from her while he cooked. Taylor was spending the weekend at his dad’s place so everything had fallen into place just nicely. He also carried in his pocket the last surprise of the day- a platinum necklace with two delicate hearts entwined. As soon as he had seen it he knew Joss would love it. It was beautiful and elegant but not flashy. It was perfect just like her._

_John was just about to head up her front stairs when he heard a car door slam shut and turned to see her walking over. So much for surprising her, he thought._

_“Hey you. Fusco was in a good mood and told me to take off early and he’d cover. What’s with all the bags, John?”_

_Joss smiled and leaned up to plant a warm kiss on his lips. It took some willpower on his part not to drop the bags and pull her lips back for more._

_“Is this another one of your surprises” she laughed, trying to peek into one._

_He opened his mouth to answer her when they were both startled by a voice about twenty feet away down the sidewalk. Turning, John looked on in horror as he watched the tall figure step out from the shadows, gun raised. He felt his blood run cold knowing what was to come next._

_“I told you I’d finish you.”_

_John tried in vain to reach for the gun at the back of his waistband but, with his arms’ full, he wasn’t quick enough. Patrick Simmons, his face contorted into a gruesome smile, fired two bullets at point-blank range. They ripped into John’s side and he staggered backwards, the searing pain disorienting him momentarily. It was the sudden impact of hitting the hard cold concrete sidewalk that brought him back to his senses. As he looked up desperately for Joss, time suddenly slowed down and everything continued in slow motion. He watched her reach into her jacket for her service weapon. He heard her long drawn out angry screams. He saw her small body slowly flung in the air as the bullets plunged into her torso. John managed to crawl to her and pull her up into his arms. There was so much blood. On her shirt. On his hands. On the sidewalk pooling with the broken Cabernet. As he gently cradled Joss to his chest, he softly whispered into her ear that everything would be okay. He willed her to hold on longer but she choked out one final breath and her eyes fluttered closed. John began to shake and sob uncontrollably as he rocked her in his arms._

_“No. Joss. Noooo.”_

* * *

 

“Noooo.”

John sat upwards in his bed, panting and gasping for breath. He felt like he was drowning, desperate to fill his lungs with air. His heart was racing, pounding in his chest, and his stomach was a sickening tangled knot. His gray sheets, twisted around his legs from thrashing about, were damp from his sweat despite the February chill in his loft. His eyes flew open and he frantically tried to adjust to the darkness to get his bearings. Squinting through hot tears, the familiar shapes of furniture and walls came into sight. Gone was the sidewalk. The blood. Joss. The sobs from his nightmare continued to rack his body and he trembled violently, the taste of vomit forming on his tongue. He managed to wrench himself from the covers and reach the bathroom just in time to empty his stomach. Maybe it had been the nightmare that made him sick. Maybe it was the bottle of whiskey he had hoped would numb his feelings and chase away the dull empty ache he now carried with him.

As the dry heaves eventually subsided, John turned on the sink and splashed some cold water on his face. Reaching for his toothbrush, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His hair was neatly trimmed and he had shaved yesterday morning, having weeks ago returned to working with Finch and the team. He knew however, looking in that mirror, that someone different now lived behind those blue eyes. He had returned. The man who had no hope. The man who had lost all faith and trust. The man whose heart had been ripped out and stomped on. The man who had been brought to her that fateful day two and a half years ago. He had returned to take up residency.

* * *

 

November 20, 2013

“I need the status of our asset, Dr. Chen.”

“Her chances of survival appeared slim initially, with the huge amount of blood loss, but her injuries weren’t as bad as we first believed. Luckily the bullets were small caliber and missed her heart. One nicked her right lung slightly and the other lodged in her sternum. We’ve managed to repair the damage and stabilize her but her body went through quite a shock. She’s still unconscious but that’s to be expected. It will be some time before she’s back on her feet again but the outlook is promising. With no setbacks we expect her to recover 100%.”


	2. Chapter 2

February 26, 2014

“We have a new number Ms. Shaw.”

Finch let out a sigh of relief as he watched her saunter from the darkened hallway and into his office at the rear of the library.It was still very early. The morning sun was just beginning to slide over the horizon rousing the city from its slumber. It filtered through the large leaded windows; its bright rays a clever disguise for the biting cold outside. It was the last week of February and the exceptionally rough winter of frigid temperatures and snowstorms had been a cruel reflection of how Finch and his team were feeling.

Their line of work had always been dangerous and there had been too many close calls to remember. Too many times they had managed to cheat death once again. Their enemies had accumulated over the years and there was never any way of knowing what dangers would lie ahead as they pursued each new number. However, it was a risk they were each willing to take. Deep down, each of them knew their time would probably be up one day but they never hesitated to put their own lives on the line for complete strangers. This was the life they chose and they believed that saving people, no matter how irrelevant, far outweighed the risks involved. It was what they were meant to do. It was their own way of seeking redemption for their past lives and they never questioned or doubted the value of their actions.

Until Joss.

Joss’s murder had caught them off guard. Even though they had all lost partners in the past, this time it had been different; it was more personal. Joss wasn’t just another asset to them. She wasn’t just another teammate. She had been their friend and most of all their moral compass. She had done her best to keep them on the straight and narrow and had been the heart of their team. She had represented all that was good in the world and had been living proof of how important their mission was. She never judged their pasts, never thought any less of them. She had respected them all as colleagues even though their methods may have differed.

Harold, John and Sam had nothing to tether them to this earth, the only family they had were each other, and the thought of leaving it never scared them; they were already dead. Joss, however, had people that needed her. People who loved her and relied on her presence in their lives. John never fully understood why she did it when she could have easily walked away. Her career she worked so long and hard for, her son she loved dearly, her freedom, her life. She had put it all on the line countless times simply because she trusted him and his teammates.It tore them apart that they saved strangers’ lives every day, many of them undeserving, but they couldn’t save hers.

Joss had been a person that the world couldn’t afford to lose and they had lost her on their watch.

They felt her loss tremendously, especially John. She had always been more than just a friend to him. She was someone special who had saved him in his darkest hours and who had helped to turn his life around. From the moment she had walked into the interrogation room that day and seen him at his lowest point, she had understood there was more to him than met the eye. She had believed in him and had given him her trust when most people would have run away.She never judged him for his prior sins, never let his past dictate her feelings for him. She had been his equal, a force to reckon with, and she had challenged and pushed him, never backing down. His respect for her had been great; her influence on him huge. His love for her had been so strong and deep that even he hadn’t been able to comprehend or label it. It had scared him so very much that for a long time he never dared to try.

The night before her murder, John had finally found the courage to verbalize how she had saved him, how important she was to him. He had felt like a huge weight had at last been lifted from his chest. His guard, that he had always fought so hard to maintain, had been withdrawn. The future, something he had never allowed himself to think of, had suddenly looked so promising. However, it had all been just a cruel taunt from his dark past. The assurance of a happy tomorrow disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. Within seconds, his heart, his soul, the fiber of his being had been viciously stolen. Joss had been the light in his life and her death had left him in total darkness again.He was shattered, broken beyond repair.

Shaw came to a halt, as she entered the room, to kneel and pet Bear who had nearly knocked her over. He had sprang from his bed in excitement at hearing her footsteps come from the stairwell. Bear was the only being who ever actually welcomed her arrival there with genuine pleasure. A glare and grunt of ‘Shaw’ from Reese, a raised eyebrow and guarded ‘hello Ms. Shaw’ from Finch, and an eye-roll and ‘hey sunshine’ from Fusco were what she had come to expect from her teammates. Someone else might have been offended by their unfriendliness, but not her. She detested small talk and forced pleasantries almost as much as she hated to deal with people’s feelings.

“So where’s Captain America today?”

Shaw peered around the large room of wall to wall bookcases and saw no signs of Reese. There had been a time when Reese would show up only when summoned by Finch or to check in when working a number, but that had changed. In the last month, since returning to work, he was almost always present in an apparent attempt to throw himself into his work and keep busy. He was always physically present, at any rate, but his mind most definitely was off somewhere else. Shaw would often find him staring into space with that brooding look and those vacant eyes of his. A few times she had noticed the well of tears. She had been tempted to point out that she was right about him and his ‘just friend’ but even she knew where to draw the line. Finch was extremely worried about the state of his good friend but, when confronted, John would just growl and insist he was ‘fine.’ They knew he was far from being fine but never pressed the issue. They were relieved simply to have him back and hoped that over time he would begin to find himself again.

In the weeks after Joss’s death,John had spiraled out of control, trying his best to erase his pain and grief with any liquor he could get his hands on. There was no magic potion, though, that could fix the hole that now existed inside him. The guilt and self-hatred ate away at his soul. He had tried to run as far as he could to escape it but, no matter how fast or where he went, the destructive being had tracked him down. However, unlike three years ago, this time there were others hunting him down too. Harold, Sam and Lionel were there to reign him in and keep a watchful eye over him. They knew they couldn’t fix him but at least they could do their best to stop him from hurting himself. He still had days, when he would be so low, that he’d allow the demons to visit but for the most part he kept them at bay.

Harold paced stiffly back and forth in front of his array of computer monitors in the far corner of the room. His blood-shot eyes gave away that he’d been up all night and his normally impeccable clothing was a mess. His burnt orange silk tie was loose, his chocolate brown vest unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled up and his cream colored shirt untucked and wrinkled.He was shaking his head and rubbing his temple with a look of bewilderment. He was wide-eyed and his lips pressed shut in a thin nervous line.

Shaw couldn’t remember a time when Harold was ever calm and relaxed. Everything was always so serious and urgent with him so she didn’t think today was any different.

“So who’s it this time Harold? What fortunate citizen of Gotham is in need of our assistance?”

Finch turned on his heels to face her.

“Ms. Shaw, something’s not right about the new number. I just-I just don’t understand it. It makes absolutely no sense. No sense at all. It cannot be right.”

Shaw rolled her eyes and walked over to the large wooden desk just as the printer finished churning out the picture of their latest number. She was about to snatch the paper up and pin it on Harold’s board but she stopped dead in her tracks when the face came into view. Finch actually wasn’t exaggerating this time-something was definitely not right. Lying in front of her on the paper tray was a ghost. A ghost that had been haunting them all for over 2 months now. Staring back at Shaw was Detective Carter.

Jocelyn Carter.


	3. Chapter 3

Joss.

The reason for Reese’s empty eyes and why he had twice tried to leave New York City and with it the team behind. His soul had died that day along with her on the sidewalk and he was now just a shell of the man he used to be. He struggled to believe that protecting the lives of others was really worth it,when the person he loved and needed the most in the world couldn’t be saved. He was riddled with guilt over the fact that Joss had died trying to protect him; those bullets had been meant for him. Since the moment he had met her he had done everything humanly possible to keep her safe. He was supposed to look out for her. Protect her. But he had failed her and he would never forgive himself.

Joss.

The reason Harold still jumped every time he heard a payphone ring. She had caused him to question his creation the Machine and whether there had been more it could have done to save her. She had turned out to be more than just a valuable asset. She was a trusted and respected friend, one of only a few in his life, and he missed her more than he expected. He couldn’t understand why the Machine, who viewed Joss as an asset, didn’t intervene that night. It had interfered with Reese trying to flee the city to Turkey so why didn’t it stop Simmons. Why didn’t it recognize the threat? The evolution of the Machine both amazed and scared him and left him full of questions.

Joss.

The reason Fusco would sit and stare at the empty desk across from his in the 8th precinct. She had helped him back on the path to becoming both a good cop and father. She had believed in him when he no longer believed in himself. She had saved his ass more than once and he feared the loss of her guidance in his life. He had needed her more than he realized and he felt lost at times without his partner. They had made a great team and she was irreplaceable.

All of their lives had changed in one way or another on that fateful day in November and they knew they would never be the same again. Although they rarely spoke of it, or of her, the magnitude oflosing Joss loomed over them like a perpetual dark cloud. Everything they had believed in, everything they had trusted, now stood in question. They felt like they were walking on a slippery slope, unsure of the road ahead.

“Finch, why would the machine be giving us numbers for people that are already de..”

She stopped suddenly mid word. Even for cold and emotionless Shaw, the loss of Carter had been hard. Joss had been nothing but kind and welcoming to her and she had a lot of respect for the badass cop who feared nothing and no one. She had been so proud on that day back in the fall to hand her over the grenade launcher and had mused at what a great team they could make. As different as they were personality wise, the two of them had more in common than she had realized. Joss hadn’t been like other women. She had been able to keep her feelings in check and get the job done; she was able to push her emotions aside. Joss was probably the only woman and most certainly one of only a few people at all who she ever considered a friend. Although she would never admit it out loud she missed her too.

“Does Reese know?”

Finch spun around to face her. “No, and he can’t! I’m scared this might send him over the edge again. He’s still in a fragile state and who knows how he’d react to this. I don’t want to include him until we know for sure what’s going on. Besides, there’s no way this can be a real threat. Detective Carter is deceased. I suspect there must be some virus or glitch with the Machine though I can’t make sense of it yet.”

“Maybe the Machine is just doing some early spring cleaning and realized it fucked up and missed this one. It fucked up big time if you ask me. Why would a virus send you a number? And of all people, Carter? That’s pretty random don’t you think? It makes no sense that her number would come up now, all these months later, unless she really is in danger. Finch, you don’t think that maybe it’s real do you? The last thing I want to do is waste my time chasing ghosts but we both know that way too many people seem to make their way back from the dead around here. Three dead people work in this building if you haven’t noticed. You said it yourself Finch, as soon as you got Reese safely in the car the ambulance showed up and whisked her away. It all happened so fast. Plus Carter’s wake was closed casket. Why was that? She was shot in the chest so it shouldn’t have been necessary. There was just something off about it all.”

“That’s absurd Ms. Shaw. Detective Carter is buried deep in the ground at Calvary Cemetery. I saw Simmons shoot her with my own eyes! Right in her chest. There was blood everywhere and no one could have survived that. She died in John’s arms.”

Finch was even more worked up than before.

“Besides, where on earth do you think she’d be for almost 3 months?”

“Well, after all that HR stuff maybe she wanted a nice long vacation alone. I wouldn’t blame her. I know I’d be sipping a Mai Tai on the beach if it were me. Tahiti is nice this time of year…”Shaw nodded to herself approvingly.

Finch looked like he was about to shoot fire from his eyes at her. He missed Detective Carter dearly and this was all too much to digest.

“Look Finch, it’s easy to confirm if Carter’s in that coffin or not. We take a quick looksee and we have our answer without Reese knowing a thing.”

“I don’t believe in disturbing the dead Ms. Shaw” said Finch sternly.

“Well then what else do you propose we do? And who knows if she’s even ‘the dead’ Finch” replied Shaw exasperated. “You said it yourself you don’t want Reese to know so this is the quickest solution. Either she’s in that coffin or she’s not. Plain and simple.”

“I know someone who should be able to help us.”

* * *

 

Finch and Shaw stood on a hill in Calvary Cemetery that evening, the cold February air blowing through the Evergreen trees that blocked their view of Manhattan. The sun was just disappearing behind the skyline casting shadows where they waited. Within the hustle and bustle of noisy Queens, this was an oasis. It was quiet. Eerily quiet. The only noise was the far-off screech of the subway and the occasional jet plane overhead. The silence was soon broken by the crunch of footsteps on the frozen ground and a familiar voice approaching from behind.

“Just met with my contact who’s a groundskeeper here. It took him some time to unearth the casket because of the cold weather but by God you’re right. I can’t believe it. The Detective is most definitely NOT in that coffin.”

Anthony Marconi, aka Scarface and Elias’ right hand man, spoke in an excited whisper as his eyes darted back and forth between them. He couldn’t help but grin to himself over the excitement of the discovery. Carter had long earned his respect by saving Elias’ life and Anthony had tried endlessly and unsuccessfully to gain her affection. He was shattered that the bastard Simmons had snuffed out her life and he was more than honored to have done the same to him.

“There’s a man in that coffin, it’s not a woman, and by the state of his clothes I’d say he belongs out in Potters Field.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” asked Finch, his eyebrows raised and his voice shaking in disbelief.

“Yes, no doubt about it. Detective Carter is not in that coffin. It’s a white male approximately 6 foot with long gray hair. Here’s a photo of both the grave and coffin so you can see for yourself. The body is still indecent shape due to the cold weather.”

Finch and Shaw looked at the pictures on his phone, first a shot of her headstone next to the long portion of excavated earth and then a shot of the body lying inside the dark mahogany coffin. The body appeared stiff but decomposition had barely begun to set in. Harold looked away quickly from the picture of the corpse as a wave of nausea washed over him but Shaw examined it closely her face never changing as she nodded silently confirming Anthony’s details.

“If you need anything else let me know. Elias will do anything to help find the son of a bitch that’s responsible. We are eternally indebted to Detective Carter and I hope you find her alive and well. We both do.”

* * *

 

Finch and Shaw sat in the library trying to determine their next move knowing they needed to be as discreet and quick as possible. Thankfully Reese was still not around. Finch had insisted on giving him the day off, saying there was nothing to work on. They knew it would be only a matter of time before he got suspicious.

“Maybe the FBI put her into a witness protection program until Quinn’s trial” wondered Shaw out loud. Quinn was the last member of HR who was alive and awaiting trial for the enormous corrupt cop ring that Carter succeeded in bringing down.

“I can’t imagine her willingly leaving her son behind and besides if that were the case then the FBI would be protecting Taylor too.”

Finch moved quickly to his computer and began to search for the surveillance footage from the evening when Simmons had ambushed John and Joss, outside the police precinct.

“We need to find out who exactly was in that ambulance and where it went” said Finch tapping urgently at the keyboard.

After a brief moment the scene appeared on his screen that he had tried unsuccessfully to forget all these months. Finch shuddered and forced himself to keep his eyes on the monitor while it all played out again. John and Joss exiting the precinct. The smiles and loving looks they shared as they chatted innocently on the sidewalk. Simmons emerging from the shadows. The hail of bullets. The blood. The sobs. The ambulance.

As they watched the ambulance speed away down the street,Finch changed the source feeds allowing him to follow its path. There on the footage, approximately 10 blocks from the precinct where Carter had been loaded into the ambulance, a black sedan cut them off out of nowhere forcing them to come to a complete stop. Two men from the sedan wrenched the ambulance doors open and forced the EMS workers into the car. Meanwhile, another man and a woman jumped into the ambulance and it quickly sped off again. The driver of the sedan looked straight at the surveillance camera for a split second before getting back in and Harold paused the video. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was Collier, the head of the terrorist group Vigilance who was determined to shut down Finch and the Machine.

“Finch, why would Collier kidnap Carter? How does he even know who she is? She was never involved in any of our run-ins with him and he has no reason to connect her to you or the Machine.”

“Actually he just might be able to connect us. Joss informed me, on the day she was killed, that she had figured out that we were getting our information on the numbers from government feeds. I don’t know exactly how much she knew or what kind of research she might have done but it is possible Collier found out and connected the dots. What would he be doing with her for all this time, though?”


	4. Chapter 4

December 25, 2013

Joss pressed her face into the soft pillow, desperate to stifle the silent sobs that had finally shattered the wall she had so carefully built the last few weeks, her body shaking and her still-healing chest beginning to ache. Hugging it tightly like a child to a teddy bear, she took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes closed, unable to control the hot stream of salty tears that made their way down her hollow cheeks. The small spot where they landed on the cotton pillowcase gradually began to spread larger and larger like an ink spot. All of her fears and despair were swelling just like that little wet pool of tears.

It was Christmas morning and Joss wanted to do nothing more than curl up into a ball and cry the day away. Never in her life had she felt so utterly lonely and desperate, not even during the two tours she did in Iraq when Taylor was a baby. She had missed him and Paul terribly but at least back then she had comrades and friends to lean on for support. People she could commiserate with and keep her mind busy.

Up until today, she had fought to suppress and ignore all the emotions that had been building up inside. As a soldier and a cop, she knew she had to stay calm and keep her wits about her if she were to survive. Joss was never one to cry when the odds were stacked against her. Happy tears, yes, when John had rescued Taylor from Elias and when her mother had made it through a health scare a few years back. Sad tears, too, when her marriage had fallen apart and when Szymanski and Beecher had been killed. But never when her back was against the wall. Quite the opposite would actually occur. She would be spurred on, her drive stronger than ever, her determination fierce and steadfast.

Joss would roll her eyes at the women who would fall apart so quickly and easily when in distress. That didn’t mean she didn’t feel any less than they did. She wasn’t any less scared or worried. Her emotions were just as strong but she would simply shut them down and refuse to let them show; she knew she couldn’t. She had always viewed crying as a weakness and sign of defeat. There was no room for it on the battlefield, whether in the Middle East or on the streets of New York City. This morning was different, though. As soon as she had opened her eyes, a horrible feeling of panic and sadness had gripped her out of nowhere. Gone was the confidence, tenacity and resolve that had had been coursing through her veins up until now. For the first time in a long time she felt hopeless.

Some time had passed after the shooting before Joss finally realized that something was wrong. Terribly wrong. The strong pain medication they had given her had kept her drowsy and semi-unconscious for almost three weeks. It wasn’t until they switched her to a lower dosage that she emerged from the fog and realized that she wasn’t in a hospital after all. The room looked like a hospital. There were monitors beeping and sterile equipment around but it was really a small private medical facility that only handled cases of the utmost discretion and she was their only patient. The doctors and nurses had treated her with excellent care and were all very kind but no one would answer her questions. Where she was. Why her family was absent. Why she couldn’t call them. Was John okay. Why wasn’t he there. None of it had made any sense to her at first. She had hoped she was just dreaming but unfortunately she never did wake up from the nightmare.

It had been two weeks since Joss had been brought here from that facility and she still wasn’t sure where ‘here’ even was. She had been sedated when they left and had awoken to find herself in a large, surprisingly comfortable, bedroom. The walls were painted a cream color and there was a small adjoining bathroom filled with linens and toiletries. Anything she could possibly need was stored under the sink or in the cabinet on the wall. A plush lilac rug lay on the floor with matching towels rolled up on a shelf. There was a queen sized bed covered in a beautifully embroidered quilt and a large oak dresser filled with clothes in her size. Everything from jeans and leggings to t-shirts and undergarments lay perfect folded. A small side table sat next to the bed with a reading lamp and a stack of books and magazines. Under a normal situation it would appear welcoming and warm but to Joss it was anything but. The locked door was a reminder of the twisted captor that was keeping her there.

There was very little noise from outside besides for the occasional sound of cars coming and going on a gravel driveway. The numerous footsteps and low murmur of voices upstairs sounded like there had to be a good number of people around. Occasionally she would hear a plane overhead but the infrequency of them made her realize she wasn’t near the city anymore. The one tiny window in the room, high on the wall, was secured shut from the outside and covered with black metal bars. After waking up in the room that first day, Joss had dragged the table under the window and climbed up to see a thick forest in every direction. There was absolutely nothing around but trees.

Collier didn’t scare her, not after dealing with the likes of the Russians, Elias and HR. The person she feared the most was herself. She was unsure of how long she’d have the strength to stand up to him. She promised herself she wouldn’t break. Nothing he did or threatened could make her give up John and Harold. But if what Collier told her was true, she might have no choice. They think you’re dead, he told her. No one is coming to rescue you, he said. At first she wouldn’t believe that Collier could pull off such a feat, but deep down she knew that if John thought she was alive he would have come by now.

The pain in Joss’s chest was subsiding and the physical wound was now just an ugly red puckered scar but she was still very weak and even the slightest activity left her exhausted. She was glad to no longer need the pain medication, that had left her groggy and sleeping for long stretches, but the downside was that she was now fully aware of her circumstances. Fully aware that she was on her own and that no one even knew to come looking for her.

* * *

 

February 27, 2014 

Just before 8 am, Shaw waited outside Holy Name of Jesus Church in Brooklyn as its parishioners filed out after morning mass. Regina Carr had never been overly religious but, in the months since her daughter’s passing, she had found comfort inside the church’s walls. Shaw spotted her and began to follow until they both were standing at the corner of the intersection. She curled her mouth up into a sweet unfamiliar smile.

“You’re Jocelyn’s mother Regina, right? Hi I’m Samantha Smith. I met you at Joss’ wake but there were so many people you probably don’t remember me. I worked with Joss at the 8th precinct. How are you doing? I still can’t quite believe she’s gone.”

Regina’s eyes lit up at hearing her daughter’s name. She smiled back and squeezed Shaw’s arm. “I can’t believe either dear. I keep expecting her to walk through my front door. I swear at times I’ll be sitting in my living room and I hear her laughing in the kitchen. We all miss her to so much, especially Taylor. He’s still struggling with the fact that he never got to say goodbye to her.”

Shaw took a deep breath, trying her best to be patient but it was beyond her control. She had a question and she wanted an answer.

“Mrs. Carr, may I ask you something? I’m sorry if this is too personal but, why was Joss’ casket closed at the wake? I was really surprised from what I’d heard about the shooting. I’d been hoping to see her sweet face one last time.”

Regina was taken aback by the tactless and intrusive question but answered politely anyway. “The hospital told us that the damage to Jocelyn was so extensive that it would be impossible to have it open. They insisted it would be too painful for all of us. We never did get to see her before the burial. I think that’s what has made it so hard for us all to accept.”

The light changed and Regina patted Shaw’s shoulder as she began to cross the street. “It was so nice running into you love and meeting another of Jocelyn’s friends. God bless.”

* * *

 

John sat in his favorite spot at the park, across the street from his apartment. The sun was shining bright and the wind had died down giving a slight reprieve from the harsh cold. He and Han were in the middle of a game of Xiangqi. John was furrowing his brows and contemplating his next move in silence. Han had been sensing for some time now that something had changed in John. The blind man had an innate ability to see what even the sighted could not. Han couldn’t see John’s pale blue eyes but he could feel that the sparkle in them was gone. John seemed to be constantly lost in his thoughts, lost in general, but no matter how often he asked, John would cut him short and inform him that he was okay.

John’s phone rang and he perked up seeing that it was Finch. It wasn’t that long ago that he would have enjoyed a couple of days off to check in with Joss and catch up on her comings and goings. He’d meet her at Lyrics for breakfast, pop into her cruiser for a chat, or more recently tail her around town to see what she was up to with HR. But lately he welcomed all the new cases and the heavy workloads that kept him busy. Busy from thinking about her. At least sometimes they would keep him busy. It was often when he least expected it that the memories would come flooding back. The smallest things, even the simplest of words, would remind him of her.

John’s mind had become his worst enemy lately and it was during the quiet times that she would come and haunt him. He would obsess for hours over what he could have done and should have done that night. What he could have done before then to prevent it. On numerous occasions he had wanted to take out Simmons and, in the days leading up to Quinn’s arrest and Joss’s murder, he had known things were at a boiling point. He had honored Joss’s wish and kept his distance, even though his gut feeling had told him not to, and now he was living with the consequences.

He would recite in his head all the things he wished he had told her, the secrets and feelings he had always wanted to share but didn’t dare. He had always been so guarded and worried about keeping her safe from his past. Safe from him. He had loved her so much that he had been willing to push her away in order to protect her. So much time had been wasted and lost between them and what he would give to get it all back, to have a second chance. He had been lucky to experience not just one love in his life but two, and he had walked away from both. Taking another sip of his mid-morning coffee, John answered the phone.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your day off Mr. Reese but I’m afraid there is a situation I need to discuss with you. In person if you will. Can you meet me at the library?”

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later John walked into the library, tossing Bear a treat. He crossed the large room, to Harold’s workstation, in no time with his long strides. He was dressed in his usual dark suit and crisp white shirt.

“What’s up Finch? Everything alright?”

John looked around the room as the midday sun filtered in through the floor to ceiling windows. Finch limped over to him nervously. He still hadn’t decided how best to break the news to Reese. He figured straight to the point would work best.

“Mr. Reese, we received a new number yesterday morning. Ms. Shaw and I spent the day investigating its validity and now that we’ve ascertained that it is indeed real we need your help.”

“What are you talking about Finch? The validity of a number? Aren’t they all real threats? When have they ever not been? And why would you not include me in this case from the start? Is something wrong?”

John was confused. Never before had Finch and Shaw worked a case without including him. He didn’t like the look in Finch’s eyes but he couldn’t understand what could be so terrible that would cause him to keep it from him.

“Well Mr. Reese, it’s the circumstances of the number and its personal nature. I thought it best to do some research and…I’m not quite sure how to say this except that the number…The number is…well… it’s Detective Carter. It’s Jocelyn.”

Finch stared up at John and took a step back, somewhat fearful of his response. As soon as he had mentioned her name he saw the pain flash quickly on John’s face. It was gone as fast as it had appeared, but it was there. John had made it clear to him many times that the topic of Joss was off limits and Finch was unsure of how this whole conversation was going to go.

“Harold, you’re telling me that yesterday the machine gave you Joss’s number? Is that what you’re saying? And you’re telling me that it’s a valid threat against her? How is that possible, Harold? Please explain to me,Harold, how Joss can be in danger today when she died in my arms 3 months ago?”

John’s voice was surprisingly low and steady, sounding just like normal, but his watery eyes betrayed him. Finch quickly began to fill Reese in on the details of what they’d learned so far, hoping to ward off a possible explosive reaction from him. The expression on John’s face never changed though as he listened calmly to everything Harold was throwing at him. He stood still as he stared at the floor while rubbing his upper lip with his forefinger.

As Finch finished talking, John continued to stare at a spot on the floor, lost in his thoughts as he slowly processed what he had just heard. He looked up, furrowing his brows as he tried to make sense of it all, and spotted Carter’s picture on the table. Picking it up,his face grew soft and a slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He swallowed hard and focused his eyes back on Finch. Eventually he spoke again, his voice cracking this time, as Bear sat whimpering at his feet.

“Harold, please… Please don’t tell me all of this and give me hope that she’s alive unless you know for sure because… …if I were to lose her all over again… …I can’t do this just to find out you’re wrong. Are you absolutely certain about what you saw on that video? Are you sure there’s a chance Joss is alive?”

“John, we had her coffin exhumed and she’s definitely not in it. I assure you that I wouldn’t be standing here telling you this if I didn’t believe there’s a good chance.I didn’t believe it at first either; it seemed so absurd. I know how painful all of this must be for you but we need to find out where Vigilance took her. If Detective Carter is indeed in trouble we need to find her fast.”

John ran his trembling hands through his graying hair and walked slowly to the large window. He stared out for a moment at the busy street below, trying to collect his thoughts and gather his emotions. ‘She might be alive.’ He tried so hard to not get prematurely excited but he couldn’t control the smile that was growing on his face and the hope that began to surge through him. He was so overjoyed and ecstatic at the thought of seeing her again. Touching her again. He closed his eyes and remembered her warm soft lips that night in the morgue. How he longed to kiss them again. To see them curl up in exasperation and chastise him again. He missed her so much. He hoped with every ounce of his being that Harold was right. He had to be.

John snapped his eyes back open and struggled to shove his personal feelings to the back of his head. He knew he needed to revert back to his normal work mode as this was the most important number he would ever chase. The idea of Joss being held alone all this time ignited a raging fire in him. If Joss was alive and her number was up they would have to move quickly. He had lost her once and there was no way he was going to let it happen again.

“Harold, do you and Shaw have any idea why Vigilance would want Joss? What would she have to offer them? She has no idea that the Machine even exists and how we get our info. I don’t understand any of it. How would Collier connect her to us? And why keep her all this time?”

“Actually Mr. Reese that’s not entirely true. I’m sorry for not sharing this with you but the moment never seemed to be right.”

Reese spun around glaring at Finch in disbelief, his voice rising. His eyes were blazing at the possibility Harold had kept something about Joss from him.

“Not entirely true Harold? What aren’t you telling me?”

“When I was meeting you at the precinct, that afternoon you were released, I ran into Detective Carter. She told me that she had figured out where we get our information from. A super computer she called it. She was right, Mr. Reese, about all of it. She knew I had built a machine that filters government surveillance feeds to determine threats.I couldn’t believe she had put it all together on her own. But now I fear that, perhaps while digging around in her search, Vigilance was alerted and they might think she knows more than she does. They might have taken her in their mission to locate me and the Machine.”


	5. Chapter 5

July 17, 2012

The sun had only just begun to rise and already the streets of Manhattan were hot and steamy. It was going to be another brutal day in New York City as the heat wave again refused to break. Joss made her way into Hamilton Fish Park on East Houston Street and soon spotted the object she sought. It wasn’t hard to miss him. At this time of the morning, most of the park goers were dressed in running gear or casual shorts but there he stood in his dark suit and crisp white shirt. Even in this heat, he looked cool, fresh and unbothered. Joss had to mentally shake herself when she realized she was admiring him. The last thing she needed was John Reese catching her staring; she’d never hear the end of it from him. Joss slid next to John where he stood at the fence of the dog run watching Bear. She pulled a large folder from her tote bag and handed it over.

“Thanks for the file, Carter. I’ll get it back to you by the end of the day.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s a copy. God forbid a day go by, John, that I don’t have to break a law for you and your friend.”

“You know your help is always greatly appreciated, Detective. Enjoy your day” he said with a big heartfelt smile, handing her a large cup of coffee.

With a smirk and an eye-roll, Joss turned and left the park, but she didn’t go far. It had been almost a year since she started helping John and Harold and she was fed up with their refusals to tell her where they got their information from. As she blended into the crowd and watched John from afar, Joss told herself that she had a right to know the truth and if they weren’t going to trust her with it then she’d take it upon herself find it. She figured the best place to start would be to find out where exactly they worked.

Joss watched John attach Bear’s leash and head towards the south east exit of the park. She knew he couldn’t be going too far on foot with him and hoped he wasn’t getting into his car. She tailed him for four blocks south and then he turned east towards the East River. Luckily by this time people were pouring out the apartment buildings and brownstones, on their way to work,and it was easy to follow him without being noticed. She saw him turn down the side alleyway of a large stone building. Joss looked up at the engraved stone block over the massive wooden door: ‘New York Public Library, Delancey St. East.’

She was confused. This branch of the library had been shuttered for years and the exterior was in disarray. Joss walked around the perimeter of the building, looking for any signs of Reese. Something wasn’t right but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Then she saw it. The small shiny security camera, over one of the side doors, was definitely new and more high-tech than the ones normally installed on city owned properties. She smiled up at it with a huge satisfied grin.Joss wasn’t dumb. She was acutely aware that John had led her to that building on purpose. She headed off to work to find out who exactly owned the property but she had a good idea already of who that person was.

Inside the library, Harold grimaced and sighed loudly as he watched Joss smile on one of his many computer screens.

“Mr. Reese, as a highly skilled CIA operative, I would expect you to know when you’re being followed.”

John looked away quickly, hiding his smirk and resisting the urge to laugh. He trusted Joss and hoped that knowing where they worked would stave off her bigger questions. The ones he knew he couldn’t answer. At least for a while.

February 12, 2014

Collier slowly paced back and forth in the middle of the large, dank, windowless room, it’s only light source a bare bulb hanging down from the ceiling. Joss sat on a hard wooden chair, her hands and ankles bound to it tightly with zip-ties, and gave Collier a steely glare. She was tired, her racing mind had kept her up all night, and the chill in the room made her shiver in her thin track pants and cotton top. Her long, naturally curly hair was pulled loosely back into a ponytail and the drastic weight loss she encountered from her recuperation left her looking gaunt. Looks aside, though, she was still the same Joss she’d always been and that fearless cop and soldier was ever present in her fiery eyes. She dreaded another round of Collier’s “education” as he called it, though, in the cold musty basement.

Deep down Joss wasn’t sure how much more of this captivity she could physically or mentally take, but she was damned if she was going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break. There had been many times, late at night in bed, when she would collapse into desperate tears and would consider giving him the info he wanted.In his presence, though, her strength never wavered. She missed her son and mother so much it physically hurt but she also missed John just the same and was not about to betray him or his friend.

As calm as Collier appeared to be on the outside, Joss knew he would not think twice of taking someone’s life if they stood in his way. He was so obsessed and blinded by his own personal feelings and mission to the point of being crazed and irrational at times.Joss was convinced he was psychotic, which should have scared her, but she also knew she could use it to her advantage. She knew that ultimately he would make a mistake and was counting on John or Harold catching it.

Collier made it completely clear to Joss that he wanted nothing more than to eliminate John and Haroldand the computer that Harold had designed. Day after day, he tried his best to convince Joss that the surveillance program they used was not only unethical but was dangerous to the entire population as a whole. Time after time, he would state his case that the American people had a right to know they were being watched. That they were being lied to by the very people they trusted to run the country and protect them. After the attacks of 9/11, everyone wanted reassurance that they were safe and that it wouldn’t happen again. But, safety and security was not worth the price of giving up your civil liberties and privacy, he would argue over and over.

No matter what Collier told her, though, nothing would change the fact that Joss knew John and Harold werenot the enemy. She knew that they weren’t responsible for the actions of the government and the surveillance and information gathering systems that were put in place. She still didn’t fully understand the scope of the computer Finch had built and all the individuals involved, but what she did know was that John and Harold were using the information for good.

Joss knew that Collier had enough proof to link her to them but there was no way she would hand them over.He wanted her to tell him how to track them down, where he could locate them, but Joss wasn’t sure that even John and Harold knew that she was aware of the library. She was pretty sure John knew but there was no way Collier could know that. She repeatedly told him that the only way she, John and Harold were ever in touch was through the burner phone John had given her. Collier was convinced, though, that she was an equal partner and refused to accept the complicated relationship she had explained to him.

“Detective Carter, you have a son that misses you very much. A family that I know you would like to go home to. It’s easy for me to make that happen. All you need to do is cooperate. You’ve denied over and over again that you have knowledge of the Machine and how it works but we both know that’s not true. I’m not a fool. I have proof that you accessed the NSA networks from your computer at work. I have log files showing the exact days and times you logged in and what you were looking at. Proof that you were searching for information on Northern Lights and who was behind its creation and implementation. You investigated the death of Alicia Corwin.

We were watching you the night you were shot at the police precinct and saw you talking with Harold Finch’s associate. We know you two are friends and work together. Why are you so determined to protect them? Harold is the sole person responsible for the most invasive surveillance technology this country, any country, has ever seen. I know that you can’t possibly believe that it’s okay? The American people have a right to privacy and they are stealing our freedoms while they lie to us. Have you learned nothing all this time from what you’ve seen and I’ve taught you? Their prying eyes are everywhere. They’re in our places of work, where we worship, they watch us play, they listen to our intimate conversations, read our thoughts, they are in our bedrooms for Christ’s sake. It has to end now. It’s time for them to be exposed.”

“I’ve told you everything I know in regards to this so-called machine you keep talking about. I’m a cop and, yes, I’ve crossed paths with Harold Finch and his associate John, on occasion, while working on cases. They asked for my help from time to time. For a long time I’d been curious as to how they were privy to certain types of information. How they knew things were going to happen before they actually did. I finally realized one day that they must have access to various databases. Surveillance videos, emails, cell phone calls, text messages, social media sites. I knew that Harold is a genius on the computer and I assumed that he had built some type of computer that takes all these feeds to generate information.

Harold and John never told me anything about it. Never confirmed anything of the like even existed. I did some digging around at the NSA to see who has access to their feeds and I stumbled across a highly classified project called Northern Lights. I saw that Alicia Corwin’s name was referenced in a document but I was unable to determine what role she played and what the project even is. Everything regarding that project was top-level classified and I wasn’t able to find out anything. That is all I know. I was never able to sit down with John and Harold to ask them about it. I’m not even sure they would have told me anything. They never trusted me in the past with the information so there was no reason to believe they had changed their minds.

I was simply an asset to them and nothing more. I was never a part of their operations and I don’t know where they live or work. I had a burner phone they would contact me on if they needed something. That’s all I know.”

“Detective, there’s no way I believe that this is all the info you have. I believe your association with them is a lot closer than you’re trying to lead me to believe and that you know a lot more about the machine than you’re admitting. I will get them, Detective, they’ve been lucky so far but eventually their luck will run out. Let’s remind you again of the presence John had and still has in your life. While you sit back and enjoy these visits with your friends and family think about the fact that the government is watching them too.”

Collier spun around and faced the large basement wall, pushing a button on the remote in his hand. Instantly dozens upon dozens of different sized tv screens sprung to life,each one displaying a different view. Speakers in every corner of the room carried familiar voices to Joss’s ears. Taylor was talking excitedly to his grandmother about his weekend plans to take his new girlfriend to a party. Fusco was arguing with his ex-wife over their son’s grades and who was to blame. As the steel door slammed shut behind her she closed her eyes and tried in vain, once again, to ignore the sounds and images that flashed in front of her. Hard as she tried, her eyes were pulled desperately to the screens searching for the faces of those she missed so dearly. It pained her to her core every day to see them, so close yet so far away, but it was those same faces that fueled her strength and resilience. Her mother’s living room, her ex-husband’s kitchen, the 8th precinct, and the football field at Taylor’s school stared back at her on the smaller tvs, each one carrying a live feed.

On a larger screen she braced herself for the same handful of videos that would continue to loop. Collier knew these were the ones that got to her the most. She watched as Taylor, wearing his varsity football uniform, ran over to the sidelines after his game ended to greet someone sitting in the bleachers. It was recorded only a week ago and she was convinced he’d grown a foot since the last time she’d seen him in person. Joss smiled and wished she could reach through the screen and give him a big kiss and hug. She missed her baby so much but was confident that he was in loving hands between her mom and Paul.

The first time she had seen the video she had expected to see Paul there in the stands but was shocked when the sight of John came into view. He looked so different dressed in dark jeans, a black polo shirt and a black leather jacket with a head now full of salt and pepper hair. He appeared happy as a grin spread over his face but there was something missing from his eyes she noticed. However, she was content to see that he seemed to be doing better than he had just a month ago. She had gasped and wept silently as she watched the two embrace knowing that John had kept his promise to watch over Taylor for her. He always kept his promises to her.

The next video that began playing wasn’t so cheerful and, no matter how many times she’d seen it, she still felt a stab to her gut. John slowly approached her gravesite with a big bouquet of pink roses in one gloved hand and a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other. Light snow was beginning to fall from the night sky and it was impossible to miss the bitter wind as it whipped at his somber face. His skin was red and raw from the cold and his lips chapped. It was footage from News Year’s Eve and John looked like hell. A dark wool cap covered his hair, his face sported the beginnings of a beard and his eyes were glazed over and bloodshot. He placed the flowers down gently and then slowly sank to his knees. He softly traced his fingers over her name on the headstone as tears began to stream down his face. He wiped them away with the sleeve of his coat and quickly took a long swig from the half empty bottle. John sat on the frozen ground shivering for over an hour talking to the gray slab of stone as if Joss were sitting right next to him. He slurred how sorry he was that he hadn’t protected her and that he was trying to be the man she always thought he was but that it was hard. ‘I can’t do this anymore, Joss.’ ‘It’s time to move on.’ The ‘I miss you so much Joss’ he whispered broke her heart.

Joss smiled as her favorite one started to begin. It was a shot of her mom’s living room in Brooklyn sometime in the middle of January where every Sunday she and Taylor would head for brunch. In the small, but homey room, sat Taylor and her cousins Pam and Tamara deep in animated conversation over what team had a better shot of winning the Super Bowl this year. In the background she could see her mother laying out the usual spread of spinach quiche, bacon, sausages, pancakes and fresh scones on the dining table. Joss swore she could smell her amazing cooking through the tv screen. Suddenly in the corner of the screen appeared John carrying a stack of plates and cutlery to the table. He left the picture as quick as he appeared but it warmed her heart to see him there where he would be loved and embraced. She knew it had to be out of his comfort zone to be there with her family and was sure Taylor had something to do with his presence.

As Joss lay in bed that night, the faces and voices from the screens swirled in her head, each vying for her attention. She marveled at how demented and sadistic Collier had to be to torture her with the very thing he hated the most. Her mind went back to John and how hard he had been struggling for the last few months. She felt horrible to be causing him so much pain but she was also proud of him for pulling himself back together and making an effort to move forward. Joss thought back to the last night she saw him and to how he had opened up to her that night in the morgue. She never got the chance to respond and tell him how she felt. She prayed that the day would come soon that she’d finally be able to tell him how much he had changed and saved her life too.


	6. Chapter 6

February 25, 2014 

It had been about 2 months since Collier had begun interrogating Joss and tormenting her with his videos. He knew she would be a tough one to crack but he never expected it to take this long. He’d been convinced that, after all this time, he would have had her as an ally, finally aware and angry at how intrusive a surveillance state is. His associates had questioned and debated him many times on the worthiness of his “asset” but Collier had been so confident that Joss was the key to the information he needed to shut down the Machine. He had never anticipated it dragging out this long, though, and today he finally had to accept that the time had come to dispose of her. Their assignment was changing and they would be abandoning their current headquarters in a matter of days. Decima was getting closer to setting up Samaritan online and Collier and his team needed to shift gears.

Collier gave his lower ranking colleague, Mike Hirano, instructions to tell Marcus Queenan, another associate, that he would need to take care of Joss. Mike dialed his number but just as the call connected, Marcus walked into the room. Marcus flipped his phone shut when he saw the number on the screen but Mike made the dire mistake of not ending the call on his end. The cellular connection remained open as they talked.

“Collier needs Detective Carter dead by the time we head back to New York on Friday. And this time, it will definitely be permanent. He needs you to make sure it’s done cleanly and that her body will never be found. Do whatever you need to do to make it happen. The last thing we need hanging over us is responsibility for a hero cop’s death. ”

Mike headed down the hallway to begin packing up, oblivious to the fact that their brief conversation was now being relayed back to the Machine and Harold Finch.Collier’s team had always been tremendously careful in keeping all surveillance equipment out of their headquarters and always replacing their burner phones frequently. Not realizing the need to dispose of it, Mike placed his phone back in his pocket and went about his business.

February 27, 2014

“Finch, you know better than I that Collier and his goons go out of their way to avoid any type of surveillance. If they have Joss hidden away somewhere, the only way the Machine would have received her number is if they slipped up and mentioned her by name in an email, text or phone conversation. There has to be a way you can cross reference cell phone records to find it.”

“Mr. Reese, there are over 300 million cell phones in use every day in the United States. It would take me days to filter through all that and we don’t have time.”

“So then limit it to just burner phones. Start in New York and work your way outwards. It’s the only clue we have to start with. We have nothing else to work with and we’re running out of time.”

John and Shaw sat around the long antique table in front of the fireplace, trying to come up with different scenarios in which to draw Collier out in the open, while Finch worked quickly to search through the overwhelming number of burner phone records.

They had no possible way to get in touch with Collier or to track him down otherwise. He was a phantom of sorts. He’d appear out of the blue at the most opportune times and then vanish again, without a trace.

They were so desperate at this point that John began to mull the idea of literally calling a news conference to get his attention. He would trade anything with Collier just to bring Joss home safely. Just sitting there without a plan was more than John could handle and his patience was wearing thin. He knew that every minute they sat there was one minute less that they had to save her. He got up and began to pace back and forth in front of the large fireplace, running his fingers through his hair.It was the early afternoon still, yet the day seemed to be dragging on like an eternity.

John suddenly sprinted out of the room and down the library steps to the sidewalk below. He ran up to the traffic camera on the corner of the nearest intersection and looked at it, like he was staring at a person dead in the eye. He didn’t bother to check if anyone was watching, he didn’t care, as he gazed up at it.

His eyes pleading, tears beginning to form, he begged it for the cell phone number.

“You have to help me, here. For over two years she’s helped us. She’s helped you. Asked us for nothing in return. I need the cell phone number for whomever has her. We need to find her today. Please.”

The red light of the traffic camera began to blink in acknowledgement and a payphone, outside a bodega in the middle of the block, began to ring. John ran to it and listened as the computerized voice gave him the information he needed. He ran back up to the library to find the corresponding books and uncover the phone number.

“I’ve got it Finch. 207-693-1212. Where is it?”

“The area code is Maine but that’s not necessarily where it’s located. You can choose any area code you want with some burner phones. I’m checking now to see if it’s active and what cell towers it’s pinging off. Then we can narrow down the exact position. The more urban its location, more towers will be in use and therefore we’ll have more precise results.I see it. It’s in an area near Mountain Falls, Virginia in Frederick County. It’s about an hour and a half from Washington DC and at the foot of George Washington National Forest. It’s a very remote region, with a number of national parks, and the cell towers are hundreds of miles apart.”

Finch pulled up a map on the monitor and showed Reese and Shaw just how large an area they were dealing with.

“Here, in New York City, there would be millions of phones within a span that large but thankfully there can’t be too many residences or businesses in such a rural part of the country. I can’t imagine Collier and his team would be camping out. They’d be in a permanent structure that’s large enough to accommodate not only themselves but their ammunition. And it would be hidden well.”

Finch went back to work, pulling aerial maps and public records of the area, looking for any structures that looked like a suitable shelter for Collier. He narrowed it down to 13 and started pulling information on each, looking for the names of owners, dates of sales, years the properties were built, anything that looked out of the ordinary.Most of the 13 looked legitimate, one a religious retreat center, another owned by the Boy Scouts, another a state owned historical property, numerous ones were houses owned by families who had held them for generations. Finch checked them all thoroughly, making sure property deeds matched the names on utility bills and bank statements. There was one, however, that didn’t sit well with Finch.

There was a sprawling house on 400 acres, set far back from the road. It was on a no access road and the property was at the end, there would be no activity except for its residents. What also stood out, blaringly to Finch, was that its owner was Illinois Congressman Roger McCourt. McCourt was head of the House Rules Committee and a well-known outspoken opponent of government surveillance. It seemed very likely that perhaps he was working with Vigilance in some capacity, whether he knew they were a terrorist organization or not.

Finch pulled some records up on McCourt and saw that he owned a few different properties including a townhouse in Washington DC, a mansion in the Chicago suburbs and an apartment in Manhattan. The property in Mountain Falls was listed as a vacation property that had been purchased 6 years ago. It was purchased as a foreclosure and it didn’t appear that any work had ever been done on it; no permits could be found on file. The gas and electric had been hooked up the entire time but Finch saw that six months ago there was a large increase in its usage, someone was now living there.

“That’s it Finch. It has to be. Call Fusco, we’ll need him for back-up. John and I will get our gear ready. It’s a five hour drive down there, but only an hour flight into Winchester and then a 20 minute car ride. How fast can you have your plane ready?”

“It’s waiting for you on the tarmac, Ms. Shaw. I’ll arrange to have cars ready for us when we land.”

As promised, Finch’s jet was ready and waiting for them at LaGuardia Airport. Approximately two hours after leaving the library, Fusco, Reese and Shaw were headed to the Mountain Falls property in two separate cars. Finch remained back at the airport, pulling up blueprints of the house and property.

Reese, Shaw and Fusco approached the gravel road that led onto the property and surveyed the area. There were no signs of activity except for a‘no trespassing’ sign that was posted at its entry. They drove about half way down the driveway of the property before ditching their cars behind the thick shrubbery. They proceeded another half-mile on foot before the large white house came into sight. Three sides of the sprawling colonial style home were backed by thick trees, the beginning of the national forest, giving them ample places to hide. Crouched behind a cluster of evergreens, they observed the activities at the home through binoculars.

Reese noted that in addition to the main house there were two large garages and a number of smaller sheds nearby.On the large circular driveway, by the main entrance to the house, there were four dark vans parked. At least a half dozen Vigilance members were busy packing them with cardboard boxes and large ammunition cases. They were working quickly and in silence, in an apparent rush to move out. Once the first two vans were full, they drove down towards the main road.

Shaw motioned to Reese and Fusco, pointing out that besides for the guys loading the vans, there were also at least four others situated around the house. Dressed in all black, they were hard to see even in the bright sunlight. Armed with automatic weapons, getting past them and gaining access to the home was not going to be easy. They needed to surprise Collier so that he didn’t have time to flee with Carter or worse, harm her.

Reese and Fusco separated and slowly approached the two opposite sides of the home, getting as close as possible without being seen. Hiding behind a small shed, Fusco made sure his silencer was on before shooting the woman standing by the back door. Pulling her quickly back into the shed, he tied her up and gagged her, making sure she could make no noise. He then focused his attention on another guy who appeared, looking for his teammate that was supposed to be on guard there.

Reese snuck up on the two men who were stationed outside the large French doors of the patio. He quickly knocked one on the back of the head with his gun, leaving him unconscious, but the second guy was not going down as easily. Reese wrestled with him for a few minutes, finally knocking his gun out of his hand, and smashed him down on the stone floor. John was sure he was dead, having crushed the man’s skull, and pulled both bodies behind the patio wall.

Shaw focused her attention on the remaining five guys still loading the vans. Methodically she shot each of them one by one with her silenced gun. She quickly lifted each one into the vans, making sure they were each dead and hidden in case someone else were to come outside. She made her way around the house to meet up with John and Lionel.

Once they were confident there was no one left outside, they made their way inside through the back door. Finch gave them instructions on what the layout of the house was like. It was quiet as they searched, room by room, guns poised, on the main floor. The living and dining rooms were full of boxes, similar to the ones being loaded into the vans.

“Looks like someone’s leaving town” John whispered.

After all the rooms had been cleared, they headed up the large main staircase listening intently for any sounds upstairs. They had almost reached the top landing when a door slammed down in the basement. Shaw looked at Reese and pointed her gun down, indicating they should head that way instead. They crept back towards the kitchen and walked right into another one of Colliers teammates that had just come up the basement stairs. Reese quickly clocked him in the head and swung his leg under the man knocking him to the ground. They tied him up and pulled him into the pantry closet.

The three of them began to make their way down the steep cement basement steps in the near-dark, groping the walls as they moved. As they reached the bottom,an opened doorway on the left led to a wide hallway. The hallway was long, with a second one branching off to the right. Besides for the cement stairs, the basement was fully finished with an oak floor and numerous paneled doors, similar to the upstairs level. Shaw and Fusco headed down the hallway to the right while Reese continued forward. They stopped at each door as they moved, listening for any sounds inside before entering. Some of the rooms were completely empty while others were being used for storage, some were simply small closets.

John made his way into a large room and peered around in bewilderment, unsure what exactly it was used for. The large far wall was covered in different sized monitors and there were speakers in every corner. A lone chair sat in the middle of the floor.John suddenly had flashbacks to a torture practice used in the CIA. Subjects would be left in a room for hours and sometimes days as loud music or white noise was played along with a strobe light. The thought of Joss being subjected to such torture techniques ignited a rage in him and he headed out determined to find Collier and end this once and for all. As John stepped back out into the hallway, a door at the far end suddenly opened and out walked Collier with two associates. They were deep in conversation and looked up shocked to see John standing about 50 feet away.

Collier and his teammates jumped back into the room they had been exiting, drawing their guns and shooting at John down the hallway. A spray of bullets hit the wall as John managed to dive behind a door.Shaw and Fusco came running, as soon as they heard the commotion, and found John who pointed to where Collier was located. The three of them advanced quickly towards the room Collier had hidden in, shooting continuously as they moved. They moved inside and were shocked to see the room was empty. Looking around, they found a door and behind it a small staircase that led outside. Running up the stairs, they found themselves near one of the large garages. Collier and the other two guys had opened the garage doors and were jumping inside a small sports car.

“John, they’re alone. We’ll go after them and you go back down to look for Joss.” Shaw and Fusco ran after Collier who was speeding out the garage and down the driveway. They did their best to shoot out the tires but he was too fast for them. They headed to where they had hidden their cars, hoping to catch up with him on the main road.

Meanwhile, John ran back down the stairs into the basement, his stomach in a sickening knot. He was terrified Joss wasn’t there or that they were too late. With all the noise, why hadn’t she come out or called for them? Meticulously, he searched every room, heading back down the hallway that Shaw and Fusco had originally explored. At the end there were two more doors. He opened the first one and was surprised to walk into a fully furnished bedroom. It was a stark contrast to all the others in the basement and it was obvious it was being used. Looking around, the room appeared empty and he couldn’t hear a sound but his gut feeling told him that this is where Joss had been. He walked over to the bed and picked up a pillow, a long wavy dark hair clung to it.

“Joss, it’s me, John. Please tell me you’re here. Please. You have to be.”

Tears began to pool in his eyes as he desperately waited, willing her to appear. He was too scared to check the bathroom and closets in fear they would be empty. His legs felt like cement, there was no way he was going to leave that room, the house, Virginia, without her. He stood there, eyes closed, tapping his earpiece to reach Finch, when he heard a noise from the closet.

“John? Is it really you?”

“Joss?”

John spun around, a huge grin spreading across his face, as he saw the closet door open slowly and Joss sitting crouched on the floor. He rushed over and dropped slowly to his knees. Pulling her onto his lap, he gently cradled her to his chest.

“You’re safe now, Joss. I’m here. I promise, you’re safe.”


	7. Chapter 7

John was convinced his mind was playing tricks on him. Joss had come to him so often in his dreams, but no matter how hard and desperately he stretched his arms, he could never quite touch her. Holding her tightly to his chest, he didn't blink or loosen his grip in fear she'd disappear from him once again. He cradled her there on the floor silently, as minutes passed, both of them restoring life to each other. Just like in the past, when working together even under intense stress and pressure, merely being in each others company brought calmness, security and assurance. No words were needed to express their feelings to each other, they never were.

His hands began to tremble as he cupped her cheek and gently caressed her soft skin with his thumb. A wave of emotions washed over him all at once. Relief, joy, guilt, love, resentment, and hate swirled through his head as the reality of her presence and what she endured the last three months hit him.

He lifted her chin to see her face and traced his finger over her brows, down her cheeks and softly circled her lips. His eyes were red and filled with tears as he fought back the lump in his throat to force the words out.

"Hey you" he whispered with a soft smile.

For the first time in months, the smile on his face was mirrored by one in his eyes. Joss stared up into them, they were always so expressive and a window to his soul. On many occasions he would try to conceal his feelings, try to hide behind one of his numerous masks, but those eyes would always betray him. Behind the tears and red rims, sat the same eyes that had stared at her so intently in the interrogation room that day and again out on the sidewalk. Eyes stripped bare and vulnerable, full of promise, trust and above all love.

"Hey you" she said quietly, smiling back at him.

"You know John, I was starting to think that the cavalry wasn't gonna arrive. Miss me?" she teased as she cocked her head and smirked while tears welled up in her eyes.

"Joss, you have no idea. The last three months have been..."

He stopped himself as his voice cracked, the words stuck in his throat. Reaching down for her hand, he drew strength from it to calm his emotions. He wanted to tell her that life had been hell without her, that the thought of giving up had entered his head more than once. He wanted her to know his heart had died that day with her but she didn't need to hear that. Not now.

Joss was well aware of how hard the past few months had been on him and her heart ached knowing that he had suffered too. The images were still fresh in her mind and she could see the toll that it had taken, his hair much grayer, the laugh lines on his eyes more pronounced. Although her time in confinement had been a nightmare for her, Collier had inflicted even more pain on John and she feared just how extensive the damage might be.

"Are you okay? Did they hurt you, Joss?"

He started to look her over, startled by her dramatic weight loss. She looked so weak and frail, so unlike the physically strong woman that could handle herself confidently with almost any perp.

"No, they didn't hurt me. They actually took pretty good care of me. My body has definitely seen better days but I'm good. I'm still working on building back my strength. The surgery and physical therapy took a lot out of me and being confined to this room hasn't helped."

Joss leaned back into his embrace and curled her hands into the back of his jacket, burying her face against his neck. He squeezed her shoulders tight and leaned his cheek on her head. Holding her hard against his chest, they remained that way for quite some time. Snug in each other's arms in a peaceful silence, they cherished the moment they had both dreamed of so often.

He pulled back slightly to gaze into her eyes. Those huge brown eyes, always so full of life and love, which he'd missed so immensely. Reaching up he cupped her cheeks again and softly caressed her ears and the wisps of curls hanging loose.

"You're really here right? This isn't just another one of those nightmares where I wake up and you're gone again?"

"It's really me John" said Joss, covering his hands with hers. "I'm not going anywhere" she promised.

John reached out and carefully opened the top 2 buttons of her blouse. Joss tensed up and looked at him questioningly but she didn't stop him. He traced his finger gently down the raised pink scar that ran from her chest and down between her breasts. Slowly he leaned down kissing the top of it ever so softly, tears once again forming in his eyes.

"I guess this is now officially your closest call, huh Joss?"

She chuckled softly, remembering the time when they had shared their battle scars with each other. It was that intimate conversation in the morgue where, after years of knowing each other and having each other'\s backs, they had finally opened up and let their true feelings show. John was the first person, other than Paul and her mandated VA therapist, with whom she shared the story about that landmine explosion that almost took her life. It was an experience that had left a permanent mark on her, both physically and mentally, and sharing it with John had felt natural. Only he could understand.

"Yeah, I guess it is."

He lifted his head and ran his hands up under her hair holding her head gently.

"Come on, let's get out of here. There are a lot of people who miss you, especially a certain teenaged boy."

"My baby. How is he? Is he alright? I worried so much about Taylor, worried that Collier might get to him too. I've missed him so much."

Hearing her son's name brought with it a gush of tears and she was gripped with a sudden urgency to get to him as soon as possible. All she wanted was to wrap her arms around him and try to make up for the three months they'd been apart. She wanted to hear all about school, football and which girl he wanted to take to prom. The months before her shooting hadn't been easy on him, being uprooted and sent to stay with his dad. Joss looked forward to the day he was back home with her again, blasting his music and arguing about his curfew.

"Don't worry, Joss, I've been keeping tabs on him and he's doing fine. He misses his mother a lot but he's okay. Paul has been doing a great job with him. He's been coping better than expected. Better than the rest of us."

"Thank you" she whispered. John was the one person she knew that always kept his promise.

Shaw and Fusco raced up the driveway as Collier sped away, kicking up gravel in his wake. They reached their car and chased after him, hoping he hadn't had too much of a head start. They arrived at the main road and turned left towards the main highway, it was the only direction he could have headed. After traveling a few miles, Shaw tapped her earpiece as Fusco continued to slam the accelerator to the floor.

"Finch, is there any way to get eyes on them? Which way they headed?"

"I'm afraid Ms. Shaw, they don't have any tracking devices on their phones and in this part of the state there aren't any traffic surveillance cameras in sight."

"You've got to be kidding me. He's disappeared again?"

They continued to speed down the road, checking any turnoffs for signs of Collier's car, but their attempt was futile. Once again Collier had disappeared into thin air.

John and Joss made their way to the airport to meet up with the others. He was livid to hear that Collier had escaped once again but, glancing at Joss, every ounce of rage quickly disappeared. She was alive. That's all that mattered.

"So what happened with Simmons and Quinn?"

"Simmons is dead; Fusco caught up with him but someone got to him in the hospital. I wish I could say it was me. It should have been. I have a feeling it might have been your old pal Elias but we'll probably never know. As for Quinn, you got your conviction, all that work paid off. Both legal teams were worried that someone might get to him in protective custody, not sure why they'd think that, so they agreed to a fast track trial. There was more than enough evidence to convict him, along with dozens of lower ranking officers, within just weeks. I'm really proud of you, Joss. You did it."

"Why do I think you had something to with that quick trial, John?"

She smirked and raised her brows. John had missed that look so much, a mixture of exasperation and amusement. He gripped the wheel tightly, his knuckles white, to prevent himself from pulling over right there on the side of the road and kissing her.

They soon joined Fusco and Shaw at the airport, where Finch waited eagerly for them all on the jet. Unable to locate Collier, they were returning to New York City, the excitement of finding Joss overriding the disappointment that he had narrowly escaped once again. John carefully pulled the car into the small hangar and Joss's heart skipped a beat as Shaw and Fusco came into view. She hadn't realized just how much she had missed her partner and she could honestly say she even missed the tough as nails Shaw. John opened her door and took her hand as she stood while Fusco came running over first.

"You sure are a sight for sore eyes, partner."

Joss pulled him into a big hug, grateful that he had come too. After handing Quinn over to the Feds, she never did get the chance to thank him for all that he had done. She knew that he had come perilously close to losing his life that night and she vowed to sit down and thank him properly once they got home.

"I've missed you, Fusco. So, I bet these guys have been keeping you busy, huh?"

She grinned, thinking of Fusco having to handle "the bane of his existence" all on his own.

"I'm glad you're back. Wonder Boy and Sunshine here are all yours to babysit again. And just wait until you meet CocoPuffs."

Throwing Fusco a look of contempt, Shaw approached Joss slowly and then suddenly threw her arms around her tightly. Joss was surprised by the very brief but unmistakable show of emotion.

"Good to see you really are alive and well, Joss. While you were gone, this one over here took brooding to a whole new level. I need another woman around to deal with Mopey and Dopey."

As Joss delighted in the familiar antics of the odd ball group, a group that had become a second family of sorts to her, she spotted its last member making his way slowly down the airplane stairs. She walked towards him, biting her lower lip to quell its quivering. In the over two years she had known him, Harold Finch had earned both her respect and a place in her heart. Unlike with John, it had taken her some time to earn his trust, eliminate his wariness. However, once she did, he had valued and appreciated all her assistance and the risks she took to help them. Joss wrapped her arms around Finch, tears beginning to fall, fully aware that he was the one who found her.

"Finch, it's so good to see you. Thank you."

Harold squeezed her tight, letting down his guard for once. He had lost many friends over the years due to his machine and it was comforting that it had finally helped return one.

"I'm so happy to see you, Detective, and I still can't believe you're here in the flesh. However, I'm not sure if you should be thanking me. I'm certain that by now you probably know, Collier brought you here because of me."

"It wasn't your fault Harold. Collier is a sick and demented person. No one could have anticipated how far he'd go to get to you and John. Besides, if it hadn't been for my snooping around he would never have tied me to you."

"I wouldn't call it snooping, Joss. Just brilliant detective work."

Finch's plane reached cruising altitude, allowing its five occupants to move about the cabin. Shaw and Fusco ran off to raid the pantry and Finch was busy working on his laptop, looking for new information on Collier, so Joss headed down the aisle to where John was sitting alone.

"This seat taken?"

Smiling up at her tenderly, he patted the seat, motioning for her to sit.

"You should get some rest, Joss. You look exhausted and you'll be busy when we get home."

"Home."

Never before did one word alone convey so much. It was more than just a place, more than just an apartment filled with her belongings, it was her life.

"So Joss, besides for seeing your family and friends again, what are you looking forward to most?"

"Hmm…Phad Thai, pancakes at Lyric's, a good New York bagel, a good cup of coffee…"

"Anything that doesn't involve food, Carter?"

"Yes, actually there is. So many nights, I would wake up from a dream of my cell phone ringing in my side table. I would frantically reach for it, yanking open that draw every single time without fail, before I realized it was still empty. I can't wait for the moment my burner phone rings for real and I hear "hello Detective."

She let out a deep genuine laugh, her first in months, as she did her best impression of John's low sultry voice.

"Well I think I can help you out with that, Joss. Hello Detective."

"Wait, I need a cocky smirk to go with it."

He happily obliged and Joss's laughter faded as she stared at the face she had missed so much. The face that had made her laugh, worry, smile, seethe, curse, and had left her upset so many times. They had been through so much together but had never verbalized what it all meant. What they meant to each other. John had told her that she had changed him. Saved his life. However, there was so much more that needed to be said. John was a man of few words, particularly when it came to expressing his feelings, even with her, and she vowed to work on that. She promised herself that she would no longer take anything for granted. Especially John. Life was too precious.

John put his arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. She knew it was his way of telling her everything would be okay. He tensed for a moment when she unexpectedly wrapped her arm around his waist and snuggled against his chest. Pulling a blanket over the both of them, he leaned his head down, burying his nose in her hair and closed his eyes contently. Within minutes they were both sound asleep.

Walking past with her arms full of chips and a beer, Shaw pulled her phone out of her back pocket and snapped a picture.

"Just friends my ass" she cackled.

John woke up shortly later and found Joss still sound asleep, tucked under his arm. He gently reached for his phone, not wanting to wake her, and dialed one of the numbers in speed dial.

"John, it's been a while. To what do I owe the pleasure? Looking to have a drink with your wife?"

"Zoe, you know the divorce was finalized. How are you?"

"I'm good. Keeping busy like always. You?"

"I'm hoping you can do me a favor. Actually, it's more for Joss than it is for me."

"I saw what happened in the paper. I really am sorry, John. I know she meant a lot to you."

"I need you to get some things together and drop them off at my loft. I'll ask the security guard to let you in."

After John recited the list to Zoe, it finally dawned on her the implication of his words.

"Are you serious? Is she really alive?"

"I've never been more serious."

"So does that mean you're going to finally tell her?"

"Tell her what?"

"Tell Joss that you love her."

As Joss continued to sleep, John relished the warmth of her body against his side, the scent of her hair under his chin, the softness of her body curled into his. He repeated the words Zoe had said in his head.

He loved Joss.

That was certain. The future, he reasoned, was not.

His mind flipped back to Valentine's Day, it had been only two weeks ago but looking down at Joss it seemed an eternity. He remembered how he thought that morning, as he woke from his nightmare, that he would give anything to have her back, to love her like she deserved. But even if she did have feelings for him, she had been through so much these past few months that it was better that he kept his distance. Give her space to put her life back together again and reconnect with her family. Above all, the reason why she had been put through all of this in the first place was because of him and Finch. He didn't want to take the chance of her being hurt again because of him. He had failed to keep her safe once and he wouldn't let it happen again.

The pilot's voice interrupted his jumbled and conflicting thoughts, announcing they should prepare for landing. John gently nudged Joss awake, softly brushing her loose hair to the side.

"We're about to land, Joss. It'll be after midnight once we get into Manhattan. You're coming home with me tonight. I don't think Paul or your mother need you showing up at their places in the middle of the night and I don't want you alone in a safe house. I'll drive you to your mom's place first thing in the morning."

Joss sleepily agreed that going home with John was the best idea. Not only did she not want to be alone her first night back in the city but she also didn't want to be apart from him. She needed him near, the pull to him so excruciatingly strong, and she wasn't ready to say goodbye yet.

John unlocked the door to his loft and Joss followed him in, both of them weary from the trip home. Stepping inside the foyer, John flicked on the lights and Joss took in the massive space.

"How come I needed to die in order to get an invitation to your place?"

John's response was interrupted by the sound of paws bounding across the hardwood floor.

Bear excitedly welcomed his old friend home, licking Joss's face as she knelt to rub his fur.

"Aw, I've missed you too Bear."

"Leon must have dropped him off earlier. He was watching him for me at his place. Are you hungry, Joss? I can fix us something to eat."

"Yeah, that would be great but I wouldn't mind taking a shower first if that's okay?"

"Last door on your left. You should find everything in there you need."

Joss walked into the large master bathroom and was overwhelmed by the items laid out on the granite countertop. She was amazed not only at how he had managed to put everything together so quickly but how he had known the exact ones to get. Next to a set of fluffy bathroom towels sat her favorite jasmine shower gel and perfume, the lotion she had been using since college, her favorite shampoo, numerous other toiletries and a set of soft cream colored pajamas.

She opened the perfume bottle and froze for a moment as the familiar scent of jasmines filled the air. Her eyes brimming with tears, she laughed at herself for getting emotional over something so silly but it wasn't the perfume that had moved her. Joss couldn't believe she was here, in John's apartment, and that he had gone to so much trouble to make her feel comfortable and at home. He had missed her and was overjoyed to have her back, that she knew, but she wondered what else was going through his mind. She wouldn't push him, she decided. She would give him time to sort out his feelings on his own, make sense of all they'd been through.

Twenty minutes later, Joss padded from the bathroom towards the kitchen feeling invigorated and refreshed, a second wind taking hold. As she neared the kitchen another familiar smell filled her nose and she smiled. On the kitchen island, John was plating her favorite Sesame Chicken from Kam Sen Kitchen. Smiling tenderly, he pulled out a stool for her and sat down at the corner next to her. They began to eat, enjoying their meal in a comfortable silence, as Bear lounged quietly at their feet. Laying her fork down, Joss looked over at John, a lone tear making it's way down her cheek.

"Thank you. For everything."

"Welcome home, Joss. Welcome home."


End file.
